


Dandelion Trust

by wiltedneck



Category: Original Work
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Other, Prose Poem, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiltedneck/pseuds/wiltedneck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem dealing with two things: the difference between love and trust in all relationships (not just romantic) as well as the process of analyzing poetry. This is a mix of prose and verse poetry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dandelion Trust

Dandelion Trust

 

the dramatic situation is THIS.  
the dramatic situation is THIS.  
the dramatic situation is THIS.

it's never love it's trust.  
love is nothing, love is trust.  
but to trust,  
oh too easy,  
trusting is too easy.

watch.  
are you watching?  
watch.

you hand me your gray, featureless, aborted baby and how much more fear of God was raised on the hairs of your arms when you saw the car careening toward your dog. he loved you in spite of all the secrets you told him in that high pitched baby voice. you judge yourself for your unholy thoughts when comparing fears, I judge you for bothering to. in turn, you may take my inability to eat brown foods and the time I stubbed my toe only to find that the nail had broken in half and one rigid lip curled under the other, jagged edge, subverted like a tectonic plate. I saw the volcanic blood ooze out and freeze and the sulfur in the air made me nauseous, faint.

we inhabit a world together now.  
we inhabit a world we built.

and yes I'm the speaker, so let me tell you how I feel.  
yes, I'm the speaker: hear me feel!

but that meager trust, beautiful before it is called a weed,  
given away like dandelion seeds, a little swept up with every  
earthly sigh, how was I to know it could be rationed?  
I certainly can't bring myself to distrust you, so please—  
I feel redundant. I feel foolish and petty.  
there is no love in my trust.

in an evaluative, numerical sense you are reliable, but my heart is a profound, drained well. sound for its swell of water and with it, warmth. it has not stirred or risen and in fact trickles off into nourishing the town. dandelions, remember? it's peaceful and cracked deep in the earth. echoes of advice rattle between the walls; they take seconds to reach me, sometimes years to fade.

this is the dramatic situation,  
and this is how I feel.  
it's just an imagining, and watching it grow and collapse, peak and then trough with each systole and diastole—the pressure is rising within my skull, behind my eyes;  
they ache.


End file.
